Countless Ways Out
by SallySorrell
Summary: A collection of alternate endings to the latest episode. You can probably guess why... T for blood/gore, angst, and some... romantic elements?
1. Surrender

**Author's Note: So, like any recent Renee-Centric piece, there's a bit of anger behind it. Personally, I feel that 24's writing staff went trigger-happy, knowing it would be their last season, and intended everything to have a shock value. Whatever. **

**I shall cope by writing you this lovely piece, which will detail some of the many options the writing staff could have taken instead. I'll do my best to keep them canon. **

**Enough of my ranting, and PLEASE **_**enjoy**_** this piece. **

**~Sally**

Jack took another look at her, promising to himself that _this_ would be the time he would get something to drink. His previous attempts had been spoiled by another of her entrancing kisses, another shudder of her spine, her eyes, peacefully shut, her warm breath against his neck…

His thirst was beyond necessity now. He hadn't even looked at a bottle of water in a day and a half.

"Are you thirsty, baby?" He couldn't look directly into her eyes.

She nodded.

"Yah, sounds great."

"Mmkay," he leaned in, to kiss her a temporary goodbye, "Don't move. I'll be right back."

She rolled onto her back and studied the ceiling. Jack's phone rang. She searched the covers for it, while wrapping herself tighter in them. The phone rested on the floor, merely a foot from the bed.

"Jack, Chloe's calling you."

He didn't want her to worry, or to answer that phone. But, damn it, if Chloe called, it must be important.

"Don't answer it, I'll call her back."

There, the perfect compromise.

Renee was in a perfect mood. Even whatever news Chloe offered couldn't ruin it. Confident, she rolled over and snatched up the phone on its fifth ring.

"This is Renee…"

Eerily, a bullet ricocheted through layers of cheap glass. Renee longed to scream, something shrill and desperate, but some unknown force stopped her.

Jack's head instantly spun around. He dropped the two glasses of water that he had poured. Both of them shattered. From his angle, he could see Renee's legs, exposed, and moist with sweat, peering at him from behind the bedroom wall. Next, he looked to the window. A single, hole, the size of his hand, sliced through the center.

"Renee!" He screamed her name. The tears already started racing down his cheeks. He darted across the patch of glass, which put up an unfair fight with his bare feet. Jack wasn't capable of caring.

He called her name again, praying for any sort of answer.

An onslaught of bullets began, swishing over every inch of the apartment. One clipped Jack's shoulder, another his knee. One grazed the side of his face, looking more like a burn than a bullet wound. He reached Renee, and pulled her into the apparent safety of his bathroom. Both of his hands, traced in blood, slammed the door.

"Renee!" He collapsed over her. She was alive. Not for long, though. One bullet had entered through her neck, and left through the back of it. There was no way that she could speak. Another had punctured her chest, and lodged itself in her ribcage. Blood circled each of the wounds, and dripped, especially from her neck. Her blood was hot and cloudy.

Again and again, she tried to say his name. Again and again, he screamed hers. The bullets continued, racing through his windows.

"I'm so, so sorry…"

He shut his eyes, and told her to do the same.

Together, their hearts surrendered.


	2. You Have My Word

Jack forced himself to sit still. _ Be patient… she's strong, she can do this. God, I just want to be with her right now! She needs to make it through this. I need to see her again. _

He glanced over at the blinding white doors, so uninviting. Behind them, Renee laid before a team of surgeons, playing for her life.

His phone rang.

"This is… Bauer."

"Jack, it's Chloe… How's Renee?"

"Not good."

"Oh…" Chloe stumbled through different phrases in her mind, but none of them seemed quite right. So, she retired to silence for several seconds, before pushing the reason she'd called; "Jack, I think I know why Renee was shot."

"What? Why? And you had better tell me who did it."

"I don't know _who_, but Renee does."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Renee called me after your team left from Hassan's. Our only lead just went into cardiac arrest, Jack. He's dead. Renee told me that she recognized one of the EMTs on the scene. Said he had some involvement with a Russian mob. I just re-read her undercover files. There are about a dozen people that could have been there!" 

Jack took a moment to process this new information.

"What do you need me to do?" He took another glance at the doors. Nothing had changed.

"We've got nothing solid to follow up on… I need her to give me the name of this guy."

"She's in surgery."

"Jack, you've been through stuff like this. Get her out of it long enough to talk. I'm sending fourteen images of possible suspects to your phone. Just have her point at them."

"Chloe! Are you suggesting I kill her?"

"She might live… and yes, for the sake of the mission."

Silence. Cold, unforgiving silence on both ends of the phone.

"I'm sure you want to hunt down whoever shot her, right? Come on, Jack! This is the only way we can do that, and eliminate this threat altogether."

"Understood."

Jack shoved his phone into his pocket and paced for a moment. For the millionth time, he gave an inquisitive look to the door.

His decision was made. He stepped forward and pounded on the door, using any (borrowed) strength he had left.

A doctor's eyes burned him through the lined window.

"Open the door!" Jack shouted.

Just as he commanded, the door inched forward, tossing out a burst of chilly, blood-stained air.

"Wake her up." Jack said to everyone present.

"That isn't possible!" the lead surgeon exclaimed, "That would kill her."

"Wake her up." Jack repeated, annoyed.

Again, his orders were followed.

Jack gently traced the curves of her face, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"Renee, baby?"

In faint recollection, she nodded.

"I need you to look at these pictures. Which one did you see today, the EMT?"

Jack flipped through several images on his phone, and Renee acknowledged each one. Her throat was torn into so many pieces, there was no hope for her ever speaking again, even if she did pull through this. On the fifth picture, she pointed. Her whole hand trembled, and her eyes flashed open and closed.

"That's him?" Jack was already sure, but was required to check.

Violently, she nodded, almost choking.

"Thank you, baby. He kissed her forehead, then the top of her head, admiring each smooth tress of hair.

"You've done so good, Renee… you'll be okay. I give you my word."

That would be the first and only time that Jack's promise wasn't enough.


	3. On The Safe Side

Renee took a hesitant step forward. Jack kept looking at her.

"So… all those promises you made today. I-I know you weren't thinking about anything. I just want you to know that I'm not going to hold you to any of them."

This only made Jack want to follow through even more. In one sudden jerk, he shoved her against his bookcase, and into a sharp kiss.

They continued, swaying their heads in sync, for maybe ten seconds. Jack held her head, forcing them together. Neither could breathe, but neither felt the immediate need.

"Jack…" she panted.

"Shh." His lips gently reached for hers again.

He swept her up into his arms, and walked her to the bedroom.

"Jack, wait…" She stopped him. His hands had just began to twist away her shirt.

"I'm sorry." Immediately, he backed away.

"No, not that. It's about someone I saw when we were at that apartment complex. With Hassan…"

He sat down beside her on the bed.

"One of the EMTs looked familiar… he was definitely Russian."

"Are you sure?"

"I am now. I had to think about it, but yes."

"We need to leave."

The ran through the apartment, a single bullet, clearly prepared, met them at the doorway, but it missed them both. Together, they fled the scene, with Jack calling CTU.


End file.
